


Travelers

by daisyisawriter91



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Disney References, Flirting, Grief/Mourning, Kinda, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Road Trips, Whiskey - Freeform, punk merlin, writer gwaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 23:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13623468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyisawriter91/pseuds/daisyisawriter91
Summary: Gwaine finds himself in a dingy old roadhouse. Soon, a newcomer enters that will change his life forever.





	Travelers

Cigarette smoke permeated the air, mingling with the thick scent of bacon grease and just slightly stale bread. There was the faint smell of blood and gunpowder. Gwaine’s type of place.  
He sat at the bar, near-empty mug of beer in front of him, pork chop sandwich in his right hand. He took a large bite ad savored the taste, the juices in his mouth. He knew there was supposed to be lettuce, but the last time lettuce had been used in this place was three weeks ago, by Gwaine’s estimate. It didn’t take much persuasion for him to peel the no-longer-green leaf off his sandwich.  
Gwaine gestured to the barkeep, an unreasonably tall man he’d heard referred to as ‘Percy’, for another beer. The barkeep nodded and set about filling Gwaine’s request.  
The door opened behind Gwaine, and he turned to look over his shoulder at the new arrival.  
It was a fairly skinny man with pale features and bright blue eyes, black hair in an undercut, tips dyed red. He wore a leather jacket and a shirt advertising AC/DC, as well as heavy combat boots and black skinny jeans that clung to his thighs in a flattering manner. In his loose grasp was a helmet embellished with dragon scales. Piercings shone in the dim light of the watering hole, four in his left ear, three in his right, one in his lip. There was no getting around it. The newcomer was hot as hell. And Gwaine was unabashedly checking him out.  
The asshole had the nerve to smile, disarmingly, at Gwaine and join him at the bar. As he sat, Percy the barkeep came back with Gwaine’s beer.  
“Anything for you?” Percy asked the newcomer.  
“Double whiskey. And leave the bottle, would you?” The newcomer replied, charming smirk making its way onto his face. _Fuck_ , the guy had an attractive voice, too. North Irish, if Gwaine was guessing.  
“Sure.” Percy replied.  
The newcomer turned to Gwaine, eyes flicking up and down, examining Gwaine’s body without a speck of shame. As Gwaine had just done to him.  
Percy came back with a glass and a full bottle of whiskey, setting them in front of the newcomer. The newcomer smiled and thanked the barkeep, taking the glass in his hands and downing it in one gulp. Gwaine watched his Adam’s apple bob with the liquid.  
The newcomer set the glass onto the bar and began pouring himself another drink.  
“You gonna stare at me all night or am I ever gonna get a name from you?” The newcomer asked, glass nearing his lips.  
“It’s Gwaine.” Gwaine said, chuckle in his voice.  
“Unusual name.” The newcomer threw back his new glass of whiskey and set it back down. “Then again, I’m not one to talk. My name’s Merlin. Yes like the wizard, no, I can’t do magic.”  
“It’s a good name.” Gwaine had hoped to be charming, but it sounded very stupid to his own ears. Merlin glanced at him and laughed, slightly.  
“You’re the first one who’s thought that, I’m afraid. Everyone says ‘bibbidi bobbidi boo’ around me. That’s not even correct, that’s Cinderella.” Merlin said, making Gwaine laugh.  
“If you’re gonna insult someone’s name, at least do it properly. I’m not going to, but if I did, I’d say ‘higitus figitus’.” Gwaine immediately regretted his words. They sounded like the flirting of a thirteen-year-old. Yet Merlin seemed to be good at turning Gwaine into a bumbling teenager.  
The words made Merlin laugh, though, so maybe it wasn’t such a bad move.  
“Exactly. You have a surprising knowledge of Disney films, do you?” Merlin poured himself another glass as he spoke.  
“I do, actually. I grew up wanting to be an adventurer. Disney was a logical step.” Gwaine confided.  
“And what do you do now?” Merlin asked, swirling the whiskey in the glass.  
“Believe it or not, I became sort of an adventurer.” Gwaine replied. Merlin raised a brow, one Gwaine now realized was also pierced, as a silent prompt to continue. “Freelance author. Took the ‘free’ part a bit too literally. Just passing through here, seeing what there is to see.”  
“Yes, there _is_ much to see in a middle-of-nowhere roadhouse in New Mexico.” Merlin joked.  
“I think there is. You’re here, after all.” Finally a competent line out of Gwaine’s mouth. “That reminds me. What are _you_ doing in middle-of-nowhere New Mexico?”  
“Long-time adventure addiction paired with heartache.” Merlin said, teasingly. Gwaine could tell he was entirely serious, no matter how he tried to mask it. “My father just…well, about a week ago, he died. Brain cancer. Nothing anyone could do about it.” Merlin confessed.  
Gwaine sensed Merlin didn’t want condolences. So, instead of saying ‘sorry’, Gwaine called over the barkeep and signaled for an empty glass. Percy delivered and walked away.  
Gwaine took up Merlin’s bottle of whiskey and poured some into the new glass.  
“Hey! That’s mine!” Merlin protested, half-heartedly. Gwaine ignored him and finished pouring. He raised his glass to Merlin.  
“To your dad. I didn’t know him, but I’m sure he was great.” Gwaine toasted. Merlin gave a half-smile and clinked his glass to Gwaine’s.  
“You’re kinder than I expected you to be. I thought you just wanted a good shag.” Merlin said, conceding his statement with a drink.  
“I still do. But that’s not why I’m in the game any longer.”  
“Than why _are_ you in the game?”  
“Partner in crime. For life.” Gwaine answered.  
“You think I could be it?” Merlin asked, incredulously.  
“Maybe, maybe not. I can’t predict the future, all I can do is shape the present.”  
“I see why you’re a writer.” Merlin muttered. “Alright, I’m in.” He declared, slamming down his glass.  
“In? In for what?”  
“Your adventure. Neither of us has got anything to lose, right?” Merlin said.  
“I suppose not. Okay, how about this? Two weeks of our lives together. After that, we can decide if we’re sick of each other and part ways, no strings attached.” Gwaine proposed.  
“And on the other hand?”  
“If you’re not sick of me in two weeks, you’re stuck with me.” Gwaine replied, truthfully.  
“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Merlin stuck out his hand, and Gwaine shook it, firmly.

 

The two week mark came, as it had to do eventually, and Gwaine was forced to confront it.  
Gwaine sat in the driver’s seat of his old El Camino, hands tightening on the wheel. Merlin sat in the passenger’s side, as he usually did, and was talking about something that wouldn’t mean much in the long run. His bike was strapped in the trunk, his ticket out should he ever tire of Gwaine.  
Gwaine wasn’t tired of Merlin at all. Vivacious and sassy and hot as hell, but kind and gentle and compassionate. Merlin was all these things, and Gwaine couldn’t bear to see him go. Even he hadn’t anticipated how attached he’d get.  
“What’s wrong with you?” Merlin broke through Gwaine’s thought process.  
“It’s the two week mark, today.” Gwaine said.  
“Oh, yeah, that! I don’t wanna part ways.” Merlin said, simply.  
“Neither do I.” Gwaine replied, quickly.  
“Good. So, let’s not focus on it. I think we’re gonna see Yellowstone soon. Want to stop?”  
“Sure. Sounds fun.” Gwaine responded.  
Merlin shifted in his seat and rested his head on Gwaine’s shoulder, after pressing a quick kiss to Gwaine’s neck. Gwaine put his free arm around Merlin’s waist.  
Gwaine had really gotten what he wanted. A partner in crime within the best lover he’d ever had.


End file.
